


Doctor's Orders

by BaronVonChop



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff, It's really just an excuse for fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 00:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12664707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronVonChop/pseuds/BaronVonChop
Summary: Kirk has a crush on Spock. Spock has a crush on Kirk. Bones loves his friends, but he is tired.





	Doctor's Orders

Dr. McCoy looks up when he hears the sickbay door open. When he sees who it is, he feels a now-familiar smile start to form. “Hello, Spock,” he says, putting down the report he had been reading. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I would like some medicine for an upset stomach,” Spock says, stiff as always.

“Sure thing.” McCoy starts rummaging among his cabinets. “I thought you looked a bit green around the gills,” he says conversationally.

Spock raises an eyebrow.

Comparing some labels to his computer terminal, McCoy asks, “Did you eat something that didn’t agree with you?”

“At the reception for the Andorian ambassador, I accidentally ingested some Ithenite caviar.”

McCoy frowns. Curiosity tugs at him, but he keeps his tone conversational. “I can’t imagine that’s playing well with your Vulcan digestion.”

Spock’s face remains impassive. “Indeed it is not.”

“What in the world possessed you to try some Ithenite caviar?” McCoy asks, returning to Spock with a bottle of pills.

Spock looks straight ahead. “My mind must have wandered for a moment.”

“I’ll say it did,” McCoy grumbles. He prides himself on his bedside manner, but Spock can really test him sometimes. He hands the Vulcan the bottle. “What were you thinking about?”

“That hardly matters.”

McCoy sighs pointedly. “Indulge my curiosity, Spock.”

Spock blinks. “The captain had just arrived to the reception, and the Andorian ambassador complimented the captain’s uniform.” He pauses when he sees McCoy’s smirk, but he continues, “I concurred with that assessment.”

“I’ll bet you did.” McCoy chuckles. “Well, let me know if you’re not feeling better after a day or two.”

“I shall.” Spock walks from the room.

“You’re welcome,” McCoy calls at the closing doors, before shaking his head in amusement.

* * *

The following week, McCoy looks up from running routine diagnostics on a monitor when someone enters sickbay. “Hey, Jim. What’s up?” He pauses the diagnostic program, which can wait while he talks to his friend.

“Could you take a look at my neck?” Kirk asks, massaging his shoulder at the base of his neck. “I think I pulled something.”

“Sure. Have a seat.” McCoy picks up a tricorder and starts adjusting its settings. “So, how did you manage to pull it?”

“I must have turned my head too quickly.” Kirk pauses.

McCoy sees that there is something Kirk is not saying, and studies him while loading a hypo. “This should help you feel better,” he says, administering the shot.

“Thanks, Bones.” Kirk stands up with a smile, a little too quickly. “That feels much better.”

“Jim--”

“Yes?”

“What were you looking at?” McCoy tries to sound casual, but his curiosity is clear.

“Just looking around the bridge.” Kirk turns to leave.

“Jim.” McCoy puts a lot of meaning into the word.

“Well…” Kirk’s smile becomes self-conscious. “We were doing some scans on a nebula cloud that was unusually rich in some rare elements, so Commander Spock had to realign the plasma matrix in the sensor station.”

The doctor smiles a knowing smile. “If I recall correctly, the access panel to the sensor station is located rather low to the ground.”

Kirk shrugs in response.

McCoy nods. “Uh-huh. Well, turn your head more slowly next time, alright?”

* * *

A few days later, Spock enters the sick bay, clutching one of his hands with the other. Despite the small burn on one of his hands, his face does not show any pain.

“Spock!” McCoy says by way of greeting.

“Doctor.” Spock sits down on a cot. “I have an injury that could use your attention.”

“I can see that.” McCoy comes over with a tricorder and a burn kit. His eyebrows knit. “What happened?”

Spock holds out his hand and allows McCoy to scan it. The burn is not serious, and McCoy begins applying a salve. “I was installing an upgraded network link for the communications panel in the recreation room. I did not pay sufficient attention to my task.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, Spock,” the doctor says. Now that he knows that the burn poses no threat, McCoy has a twinkle in his eye. “Normally you’re laser-focused on whatever you’re done.”

Spock sits up even straighter, avoiding eye contact with McCoy. “Thank you, doctor.”

McCoy smoothes a binding over the wound. “I wonder, what could have distracted the implacable Mr. Spock?”

Spock sits, silent and stoic, waiting for McCoy to finish so that he can leave. McCoy continues to fuss with the binding, taking his time as though determined to outwait Spock.

McCoy prompts him, “You said this was in the recreation room?” No response. “Was there perhaps anyone else in the room?”

Spock’s face remains expressionless, but McCoy imagines he can almost see the struggle. “The captain may have been in the room, warming up for some exercise. But I hardly see how that is relevant.”

McCoy breaks into a satisfied grin. “Of course not,” he agrees, making a final adjustment to the binding. “There, you’re all set.”

“Your assistance is appreciated,” Spock says, as he walks from the room, perhaps a little faster than he had to.

* * *

The next day, Kirk enters the medbay holding his arm and grimacing. A small spot of blood has soaked through his forearm sleeve.

“Jim! What’s wrong?”

McCoy starts to help Kirk to a cot, but the captain waves him away. “I just hit my arm on a doorframe, that’s all,” he says. “I was late to a call with the admiralty and I ran a little too fast.”

“You musta been quite a sight during the meeting,” McCoy huffs. He removes a scanner from his tricorder. “Take your shirt off and I’ll take a look.” Kirk strips off his shirt and McCoy hisses through his teeth. There is a shallow cut on Kirk’s forearm, and the skin around it is starting to turn purple. “That’s going to be quite a lovely bruise. I’m tempted to let you keep it awhile as a reminder to be more careful.”

“Come on, Bones,” Kirk says, his face imploring.

“Yeah, all right, hold your horses.” McCoy purses his lips as he applies a dressing, mock-serious, for all the good it will do. “There. But what in the world made you decide to run a marathon before calling the admirals?”

“I was riding the turbolift, but I missed my floor. When I realized it, I had to catch another lift back, and then rush to make it to the call on time.”

“Ah.” McCoy pauses, and the two of them wait in silence for several moments. Then they speak at the same time. “Well--”

“I--”

McCoy holds up a hand. “Go ahead.”

“When the lift reached my floor, a crewman got on, and we started talking, and it totally slipped my mind that I was supposed to get off there.”

“Uh-huh. And this crewman, does he by any chance have pointed ears?”

Kirk flushes.

McCoy shakes his head. “Just do me a favor and try to stay focused, especially when Vulcans are around.”

Kirk nods and starts to pull his shirt over his head, careful not to disturb the dressing on his arm as he steps out the door. A moment later McCoy hears a crash from down the hall.

The doctor sticks his head out the door to see Spock hastily trying to load some equipment back onto a cart, before pausing to rub his shin where he had kicked the cart. Kirk stops to lend a hand, but the more they try to help each other, the more they get in each other’s way. The cart overturns, spilling equipment onto both men.

McCoy calls down the corridor, “Could you both come here for a minute?”

When they have picked themselves up, Kirk and Spock walk back to sickbay. Kirk looks sheepish, while Spock merely straightens his uniform. He levels his gaze at McCoy. “Yes, doctor?”

“Step in here,” McCoy says, openly smiling now. “I’ve got some medical advice for you.” After the door closes, McCoy gives them both the sternest look he can manage. “Would one of you ask the other one out already?” They both open their mouths to protest, but McCoy shushes them. “Doctor’s orders.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [zjofierose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose) for beta reading! Any remaining issues are on me.


End file.
